


keep it on

by phylocalist



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, bc i'm a sucker for cliché tropes, boyfriend shirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 05:41:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11479824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phylocalist/pseuds/phylocalist
Summary: Yuuri’s pouring two cups of coffee, humming as he does so, looking like the most beautiful thing Viktor’s ever seen, backlit by the morning sun. Viktor stands in the entrance of the kitchen for a moment, awestruck and completely in love. Some birds start chirping and Viktor thinks the scene could not get any more book-perfect, and that’s when he sees it.Yuuri’s wearing one of his button ups — the one they’d carelessly thrown somewhere on their way to the bedroom last night.





	keep it on

**Author's Note:**

> it's been an eternity and a half but i finally managed to finish _something_ even if it's mindless pwp. i'm still trying to work through an awful writer's block, but hopefully i can pull myself through. this was written for [viktuuri nsfw week](http://nsfw-victuuri-week.tumblr.com/), day two: clothes! do check them out. i love week challenges even tho i always only do like one or two days lmao.  
>  i'm a sucker for bottom/sub viktor so while viktor tops in this, i still tried to play with the power dynamics between him and yuuri. i always love me some healthy bdsm.

Clinking and rustling is what wakes Viktor up. He sits straight up in the bed as soon as he can smell the coffee being brewed and lets a smile stretch across his face as he lets out a short yawn and feels the bruised skin around his neck stretch. It almost doesn’t hurt anymore, but when he takes two fingers to one of the worst hickeys on the base of his neck and presses down, a shudder travels down his spine as the pain appears.

There’s some humming coming from somewhere outside the room now, too, and Viktor remembers why he woke up in the first place. He grabs a clean pair of underwear and slips it on, patting a still sleeping Makkachin on the head on his way out the room. Like he thought, as soon as he’s in viewing-distance of the kitchen, Yuuri’s figure appears in his field of vision.

Yuuri’s pouring two cups of coffee, humming as he does so, looking like the most beautiful thing Viktor’s ever seen, backlit by the morning sun. Viktor stands in the entrance of the kitchen for a moment, awestruck and completely in love. Some birds start chirping and Viktor thinks the scene could not get any more book-perfect, and that’s when he sees it. 

Yuuri’s wearing one of his button ups — the one they’d carelessly thrown somewhere on their way to the bedroom last night.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. And then another. And another one, because it’s proving a lot harder than he thought to not get his lower half involved in the whole ordeal. Viktor had heard of the so-called  _ Boyfriend Shirt _ incidents, how amazing the sights were; but without ever having experienced it himself, it never occurred to him it could be  _ this _ amazing, could look  _ this _ good. It also probably doesn’t help that Yuuri makes him look at everything through heart-shaped pupils.

Yuuri seems to finally notice Viktor’s presence at that moment, and Viktor is rewarded with seeing the most blinding smile appear on Yuuri’s face. It’s so beautiful it gives him butterflies. Yuuri grabs both the cups of coffee, each on one hand, and walks towards Viktor with that blinding smile on his face.

“Good morning,” he says as soon as he’s in front of Viktor.

Viktor takes a mug from Yuuri and pulls his fianceés hair back to press a kiss on his forehead. “Morning. I can’t believe you actually woke up earlier than me.” He’s rewarded with a pink blush spreading on Yuuri’s cheeks and a weak punch to the chest.

“Shut up. You must’ve been tired from, um…” Yuuri clears his throat and his blush deepens. He’s very intently looking at their feet, his voice almost a murmur. “Last night. Yesterday? However long we were at it for.”

The only thing Viktor can see in this position are Yuuri’s ears poking out from his hair, and they’re a deep red. He can’t imagine how Yuuri’s face looks right now. It’s such a contrast from the Yuuri from yesterday, the one who fucked him nine ways to heaven for so long Viktor immediately passed out as soon as their shower was done. It had been a long shower, too, with Yuuri meticulously cleaning Viktor’s entire body — so thorough, especially, in getting all the come out. He hadn’t apologized for leaving Viktor in such a state, had learned that Viktor  _ liked _ being left in such a state and he had done nothing wrong, though it had taken a couple months of work and Viktor was sure Yuuri still worried in his mind.

Viktor knows now, though, the best way of helping Yuuri deal with his anxiety: reassurance. So he chuckles airily, and lifts Yuuri’s face by the chin. As he thought, Yuuri’s eyebrows are drawn in preoccupation and a beautiful crimson blush paints his cheeks. Viktor faces him with a grin.

“Yes, I was. But now I’ve rested and I feel  _ amazing _ ! All thanks to yesterday.” He winks at Yuuri, who ducks his face to rest against Viktor’s sternum, but not before he could see a small relieved smile.

“Okay. I’ll believe you,” Yuuri murmurs against Viktor’s skin.

“More importantly, love,” Viktor continues before Yuuri can dwell too much on the situation. “Were you about to make me breakfast?” He makes sure to put on an exaggerated surprised expression, though he can’t help the sparkling in his eyes at the prospect.

Yuuri looks up and he’s finally smiling again, relaxed. “Yes. But I’m afraid all we have for breakfast is cereal, so I can’t cook you anything. We still have to go grocery shopping.”

Viktor’s eyes soften and he gets rid of the exaggerated expression. His face is serious when he talks: “Yuuri.  _ Zolotse _ . You could serve me dirt in a plate and I would still eat it and think it’s delicious.”

“Oh my god.” Yuuri’s head thumps against Viktor’s chest again. “You’re not even joking.”

Viktor tilts his head, confused. “Why would I?”

Yuuri’s hands push Viktor away from himself, not letting Viktor have another glimpse at his expression — which is probably dangerous levels of adorable right now. “Just go sit on the table and wait there.  _ Mattaku! _ ” Yuuri sounds exasperated but fond, which is probably how Viktor makes him feel most of the time, shaking his head as he walks back to the kitchen.

Viktor does as he’s told, sipping his coffee on the way back to the table, sitting down like a good boy. If Yuuri could see him right now, he would probably be able to see the metaphorical ears twitching and metaphorical tail wagging.

He’d almost forgotten the reason why he had almost lost it just a few minutes prior until he sits down opposite of the kitchen and, therefore, with Yuuri in full view right in front of him again. Viktor basically chokes on his coffee when Yuuri suddenly raises to his tiptoes to reach the highest shelf of their kitchen, probably looking for the box of cereal they’d put there just the other day.

But Viktor’s eyes travel downward from Yuuri’s outstretched hand, all the way down his arm to the way the shirt pools around his small waist, finally settling on the small strip of skin of his butt Viktor can see because of the raised shirt. Yuuri’s probably on his tiptoes and it’s adorable until it’s not, because Viktor realizes he can see the exposed skin of Yuuri’s butt which means — he’s not wearing any underwear.

Well. There’s no calming down  _ this _ erection.

Viktor buries his face in his hands for a moment, trying to calm down his breathing. His rational mind is lecturing him about being a responsible adult, how he’s almost thirty and he shouldn’t exert his body to this point every day; but Yuuri is  _ right there _ , a few steps away, wearing his shirt and  _ only _ his shirt. Viktor’s always been good at ignoring his rational mind anyway.

He’s right there behind Yuuri almost before he notices.

“Viktor?” Yuuri’s truly startled; Viktor can tell by the way his Japanese accent comes out and ends the name in a “u” sound.

Viktor’s unfazed, grabbing Yuuri by the hips and pushing their bodies together. He can tell the moment Yuuri notices he’s hard by the shuddering breath he lets out and the way he has to grip the counter to keep himself still. Viktor takes advantage of the closeness by nipping at Yuuri’s earlobe. “ _ Yuuri _ ”, he whines, needy, right in Yuuri’s ear.

“We -” Yuuri gets cut off by Viktor grinding against him, but he recovers quickly. “We have practice in a few hours. Yakov will be mad if we’re late, Vitya.”

Viktor whines again. He’s hard. He never wants to hear Yuuri say Yakov’s name again while he’s hard.

“He can be mad if he wants. We can be late every once in awhile.”

“It’s the _first_ _day_ of practice, Viktor.” Yuuri’s tone is almost severe, which startles Viktor into stopping his movements.

He frowns and steps back, letting his hands fall from Yuuri’s hips. “You don’t want this?” It’s not accusatory, only a question. After all, there’s nothing fun about having sex when one of the involved parties isn’t wanting. He isn’t about to force himself unto Yuuri if that’s not what Yuuri wants.

Yuuri turns around, his brow eyes wide and worried. “That’s not it! I just, “ he worries his bottom lip in between his teeth, looking down. “Don’t wanna cause you any trouble.”

Viktor’s smile returns to his face and he pulls Yuuri’s face up once again, looking at him adoringly. “You could never cause me any trouble,  _ zolotse _ .” His smile turns into a teasing grin as he leans down to kiss Yuuri and brings their bodies together once again, rubbing his dick against Yuuri’s hip. “Except for  _ this _ kind of trouble.”

“Well.” Yuuri’s grinning now, too. “That’s a kind of trouble I can help you with.”

Viktor lets out a delighted laugh, and brings their faces together once again with more force than necessary. Yuuri’s glasses get squished between their faces uncomfortable, but none of them care enough to part and take them off. The kiss quickly escalates, their breaths hot and labored, their lips tingling. Viktor lets one of his hands wander under the shirt Yuuri’s wearing —  _ his _ shirt, he remembers, and the thought almost makes him dizzy with want —, grabbing at his naked butt. Yuuri lets out a tiny moan, Viktor feels himself grow harder.

“Can I fuck you, love?” Viktor asks, this time concentrating his attention on Yuuri neck and collarbones, one of his fingers hovering dangerously close to Yuuri’s hole.

Yuuri’s hands quickly grab onto Viktor’s hair, almost a little too tightly, grinds down on Viktor’s hand with need. “Yes,  _ yes _ , please.”

It’s rare to have Yuuri begging, usually Viktor’s the one doing it. It only encourages him more, eagerly sucking on the flesh just above Yuuri’s left collarbone. “Is there…?”

Basically unprompted, Yuuri pulls on one of the cabinets and rummages around it until he conjures up a travel-sized bottle of lube. Viktor looks at it with one eyebrow raised, wondering how it even got there. The blush spreading across Yuuri’s face onto the tip of his ears is all the answer he needs. It elicits another delighted laugh out of him. God, he loves this boy.

“Turn around for me, Yuuri.” 

Yuuri does as he’s told and he plants both hands on the counter for balance. Viktor kneels down behind him, kissing one of Yuuri’s buttcheeks tenderly as he slathers lube on his fingers. Yuuri lets out a delighted hum above him, which lasts until Viktor’s suddenly biting down on the flesh and thrusting one finger into him, at which point it turns into a surprised moan.

He spreads Yuuri open for him meticulously, taking his time in getting him used to each finger before adding the next, peppering his butt and thighs with kisses and bites all the while. He even sucks a hickey on one cheek, which is probably gonna be hell to sit on.

By the time Yuuri’s rocking down onto Viktor’s fingers himself, panting and biting his lip to avoid letting any sound escape his mouth — a bad habit Viktor’s intent on correcting — Viktor is so hard it’s almost uncomfortable. He finally stands up, not pulling his fingers out from Yuuri and pressing his cock to Yuuri’s lower back. It makes Yuuri let out a startled moan.

“Can I, please?” Viktor whines into Yuuri’s ear, needy and begging like always. Like Yuuri always has him.

Yuuri nods and Viktor hurries to slather on some more lube on himself, not even bothering on taking off his underwear all the way, just pulling his dick out. He’s suddenly so desperate to be inside Yuuri, needs it like he needs breathing.

He slides into Yuuri slowly, with a drawn out moan, holding Yuuri by the hips until he’s all in. He pauses for a moment, panting against Yuuri’s neck, who pushes a hand into his hair and arches against him beautifully.

“Vitya, please.” He’s breathless, his eyes closed in pleasure, and there’s no way Viktor would ever deny something to his Yuuri.

Viktor starts moving slowly, fucking into Yuuri lazily and drawn-out, because he suddenly wants this to last forever. Yuuri hums in appreciation, the golden light of the morning casting a beautiful glow around his body stretched against Viktor’s chest, eyes closed and lips pursed. Viktor kisses his fianceés neck, jaw and just about anywhere he can reach, letting the pleasure build in waves inside them.

It’s wonderful. Sex with Yuuri always is, but he’s too needy most of the time, too lost in pleasure to take it slow and appreciate it this way. He loves when Yuuri pins him down to the bed and fucks into him ruthless and without mercy; but he loves this too, he realizes. The slow moving of their bodies in unison, a synchronization almost as perfect as when they’re skating a routine together.

All of a sudden, Yuuri’s calves finally give out, making him come down from the tip of his toes as he had been standing to both feet pressed flat against the floor. With this, though, comes a high-pitched moan that seems to surprise even Yuuri, who opens his eyes and clasps a hand over his mouth, flushing crimson red in embarrassment.

Viktor bites down on his bottom lip to stop the laughter from getting out because it will probably only make Yuuri feel worse. Instead, he focuses on driving Yuuri’s hips down onto his cock at the same angle again.

“So it’s here, huh?” He says as Yuuri moans once more, the sound muffled against his palm. Viktor frowns at this and tugs at Yuuri’s hand gently. “I want to hear you,  _ solnyshko _ .”

Yuuri lets his hand drop, not without an embarrassed look shot Viktor’s way, but as Viktor hits his prostrate dead-on once more, he moans loud and high-pitched: “Ah! Viktor, Vitya. Hmm.” He drapes himself against Viktor’s chest, holding onto Viktor’s neck with both hands. It pulls the shirt taut against his chest and Viktor wastes no time, taking his hands off Yuuri’s hips to play with his nipples instead. His hands pinch at them over the shirt as his mouth works a hickey into Yuuri’s shoulder, to which Yuuri responds with something between a hiss and a moan.

Viktor smiles against Yuuri’s shoulder, licking the bruised skin better. “Is this good?”

“Yes, yes.” Yuuri nods frantically. “So good, Viktor. Such a good boy for me, always.”

The praise sends a shiver down Viktor’s spine and it pulls a whine out from him. Even when he’s the one fucking into Yuuri, the one deciding their movements and speed, Yuuri still manages to pull him by the leash he’s permanently got wrapped around the neck, ever since they started dating. God, he’s so far gone and he wouldn’t want anything less.

Soon, Yuuri starts squirming against Viktor’s chest, moving his hips alongside Viktor but it doesn’t seem like it’s enough. He whines. “Vitya,  _ please _ . More. I need -” He still doesn’t move his hands, clearly asking for Viktor to take care of him.

Viktor knows. He needs too. He always, always needs; never has enough. Insatiable, Yuuri would chastise him. Only for you, Viktor would reply.

As soon as Viktor wraps a hand around Yuuri’s hard cock he feels him shudder against his chest. There isn’t a question, but Yuuri replies anyway. “Yes, that’s it. _ Ohh _ .”

Yuuri turns frantic in the blink of an eye, pushing both down onto Viktor’s cock and up into Viktor’s hand, wonderful moans filling the kitchen and Viktor’s ears. He’s so lost in the pleasure it’s like he almost forgets Viktor’s there, his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open. He’s so beautiful it drives Viktor crazy.

Viktor speeds up his hand around Yuuri’s cock, uses the other to play with Yuuri’s nipples. “You can come. It’s okay. Come for me.”

“Ahh, ah. Viktor. _Viktor_.” Yuuri chants his name over and over as his muscles tighten and he arches taut like a bowstring against Viktor, clenching around him as his orgasm draws near. Viktor moans next to Yuuri’s ear, twisting his hand and using his fingers just the way he knows will drive Yuuri past the edge. “Fuck. Oh, ohhh.” Yuuri’s moans staccato, getting higher the closer to coming he gets, until finally he buries his nails into Viktor’s scalp and comes with a full-body shudder, twitching and hissing through the aftershocks.

Viktor lets him come down from it, petting and kissing everywhere he can reach, as Yuuri relaxes against him, content and glowing. He smiles up at Viktor lovingly, but then his eyes turn mischievous and he’s moving again, clenching against Viktor on the way up and opening up for him as he slams down. “Hmm, you need to come too, Vitya. Inside.” 

Viktor lays his forehead against the back of Yuuri’s neck, cursing in Russian.

Yuuri’s going to be the death of him. And what a sweet, sweet death it’s going to be.

Newly invigorated, Viktor grabs Yuuri’s hips and slams into him hard on the next thrust, startling a yell out of Yuuri. “You asked for this.”

Yuuri laughs, breathless, as he leans face down onto the kitchen counter, smiling up at Viktor devilishly; provocative and enticing. A femme fatale in all his might. “Yeah. That’s right. Come on, Viktor.”

Viktor doesn’t even bother answering anymore, just slams into Yuuri with all his might until he’s arched over him, forehead against Yuuri’s back clothed in Viktor’s shirt, moaning senselessly. His muscles tighten and he’s so close, thrusts into Yuuri once, twice more and comes inside him, panting against Yuuri’s back. He takes a minute to regain at least half of his composure before pulling out, peppering kisses down Yuuri’s back.

Yuuri makes a noise of protest at the loss, but doesn’t move; instead, he spreads his legs open and looks intently at Viktor from where he’s pillowed his face over his crossed arms on the kitchen counter. Viktor looks from his smug face to the shirt he’s still wearing —  _ his _ shirt, he has to keep reminding himself — all the way to the come dripping down his thighs.

Viktor can physically feel the blood rushing south again and whines like he’s being tortured; Yuuri has the nerve to laugh. He closes his eyes and drops his forehead against Yuuri’s back, murmuring against the shirt, “It’s the first day of practice. We can’t skip. We’re already going to be late. If we don’t go we’ll be killed for sure.”

He’s not sure even the threat of imminent death is enough to tear him away from this.

Yuuri is the one who makes the decision in the end, forever the most sensible and responsible of the both of them. He straightens out and stands on his toes to press a chaste kiss against Viktor’s lips.

“I’m going to take a shower.” When Viktor tries to follow, Yuuri stops him with a hand on his chest. “No, you don’t get to come with me or we’re going to go again. You stay and pour yourself your own cereal. Eat your breakfast and think about what you’ve done.”

Viktor doesn’t argue, but he pouts. He watches Yuuri walk to the bedroom, the drying come still visible on the inside of his thigh, right under where the shirt ends. He whines, alone in the kitchen.

As he reluctantly eats his cereal, he thinks that yeah, he’s going to think about what he’s done for a  _ long _ time. Probably not the kind of reflective thinking Yuuri was talking about, but he’s going to think about it for sure.

He also thinks that’s going to buy about a dozen new shirts in different colors for Yuuri to hopefully wear again.

Viktor thanks God for whoever invented the  _ Boyfriend Shirt _ phenomena. It’s only happened once to him so far and it’s already improved his life this much. He can’t wait for it to repeat over and over again.


End file.
